


Disentangle

by Missy



Category: Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Body Horror, Curses, Developing Love, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Romance, Trick or Treat: Treat, hair combing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:36:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: The March sisters have always been special.





	Disentangle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OzQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/gifts).

> You had so many good prompts that I honestly wanted to do all of them, so I mixed together a few ideas in this one!

The March girls have always been special.

Margaret was born with the power of fashion and taste. Her clothing – even when she wore the humblest of rags or the simplest of dresses made over by her own careful needlework – looked stunning to the outside observer.

Beth has the voice of a lark. It’s gorgeous, piercing quality can both shatter glass and draw the timidest of creatures to her side.

Amy conceives of the most beautiful – and horrible – images with the tip of her brush. Entire universes form and leap from her canvases.

Jo’s hair – her one true beauty – has always been alive. 

For as long as Jo has been alive it has always been this way. Mostly cloistered within due to the unpredictability of her hair, she’s tried to tie it up, keep it in staid buns, but when she leaves the house to do her Christian duty she can feel it wiggling, wishing to strike out against those who strike out against her.

Her moments of rebellion have been sweet and quiet. Hours on the skating pond and in the orchards, racing as hard as her legs can carry her. 

And that was how she’d met her truest chum, Laurie – no, she won’t remember what happened to him. Won’t allow that memory to overshadow all.

And that rebellion – in spite of her mother’s fears – has taken her all the way to New York, where she’s mostly kept to herself in the boardinghouse as she writes until her fingers ache.

Friedrich is the one who walked into her room – thundering about one of her stories in _The Volcano_. Who found her there, trying to comb her massive tresses, only to have it wrap itself around her comb, enraged at even being touched.

Friedrich laughs at the sight before him, and gently bats away a strand that tries to snap at his chin.

He shows Jo an assortment of items jingling about in his pocket. One glows mysteriously. Another makes a tone Jo has never heard before.

“You aren’t the only one with secrets, fraulein,” he says, shooting her a serious look.

Then, “when was the last time someone combed your hair?”

“No one comes near enough for that,” she says.

Friedrich smiles. “I am not possessed of an ordinary sense of fear, Miss March.” He pulls a comb from his pocket. “Please.”

Friedrich sits down behind her. Jo feels the pressure of his knees pressing into the meaty part of her hips and takes a deep breath as he presses the enchanted comb to her scalp…


End file.
